


A Fortress Out of Cushions and Blankets

by TheGreenCloak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cushions, Draco is probably high, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Not sure though, Plushies, extreme fluff, harry is angry, pillow fortress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 10:05:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11849316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenCloak/pseuds/TheGreenCloak
Summary: When Harry is angry he finds peace in Draco's fortress of cushions and blankets.





	A Fortress Out of Cushions and Blankets

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone,   
> I usually don't really write a note because I'm an awkward potato >.<   
> I just wanted to write one this time for my best friend, this one's for you love :)   
> I hope it'll be able to distract you from your studies and make you feel a little bit better ;)   
> Much love   
> TheGreenCloak

Harry had never felt quite so angry before, had never felt quite so capable of murder either for that matter. He had gritted his teeth through Binns’ lecture, snapped his quill in two under professor McGonagall’s strict gaze and nearly thrown his treacle tart at the first person who dared to talk to him during supper. By the time he had finished his plate, he was positively steaming.

Hermione had cast him a few worried glances but had decided against asking him after his unusual behaviour, a most self-preserving decision of hers. She had stared after him though with that inquisitive gaze that often defined her being. When she had opted to follow her friend out of the great hall, a pale and freckled hand had stopped her though, saving her from the outburst meant for another.

It was with decisive and to put bluntly hippopotamus like steps – with which is meant that they were as loud as they were big – that Harry stomped his way over to the Slytherin dorms. He did not know the password but such a trifle thing had never stopped him before and so it would so now either. With a flick of his wand he blasted through the door and stumbled into the Slytherin common room. A few loitering Slytherins backed away as he stormed up to one of the only returning eighth years he knew.

“Pansy, where’s Malfoy?” he hissed, his voice so low and positively deadly that it brought a shiver to Pansy Parkinson’s spine. Before Harry could lift his wand and force an answer out of the shivering girl, she raised her hand and pointed into the general direction of the male dorm rooms.

“He’s in the last room.” Harry granted her a forced smile before his face turned into one resembling a thunder cloud and he resumed his way to his original target. He ran up the stairs and before he was even close to the last room’s door he blasted that door too to pieces, revelling in his own fury.

“Malfoy!” he shouted before running up to the man’s room. When he got no reply, he shortly halted in his steps. The last room was only a few steps away, but the fact that Malfoy did not even reply left Harry wondering as to whether he was actually there. He approached the room a little more carefully this time and as he peered into it, he felt all anger leave him at once.

The room was completely filled with one massive fortress, built out of cushions and blankets of all kinds. Harry felt quite uncomfortable to enter the room without seeing its inhabitant, but he supposed that the other man was sitting quietly in his fortress, refusing to come out and face his responsibilities and so he shook off the uncomfortable feeling that had settled on his shoulders and opened one of the flaps made up out of two green blankets that marked the entrance to the makeshift fortress.

What he found inside stunned him if possible even more. The entire fortress was filled with even more cushions and blankets plus a few teddy bears. In the middle of it sat one very peaceful Draco Malfoy, his legs positioned into what Harry knew to be the lotus position even though he himself had never quite mastered it.

He tried calling out for the other man once more, but the latter only smiled a sort of goofy grin that transformed his entire face from that of death eater’s son into that of a normal teen male.

“What sort of trick are you pulling, Malfoy?” Harry grunted, his face contorted into a frown.

“Why don’t you sit down Harry?” Malfoy replied, his voice soft and friendly, as familiar as it was unfamiliar. Harry did not take the bait though and kept himself upright, at least for as far as that was possible with the slightly dented ceiling.

“Can I offer you some tea, my friend?” Malfoy continued, completely oblivious to the other man’s boiling fury. Harry meant to strangle him, he really did, but as Malfoy offered him a cup of what smelt of blueberry tea, he felt his resistance crumble. He sighed and sat himself down in front of Malfoy, the two flaps shutting behind him.

Harry took the cup with both hands and as he carefully nipped on its rim he softly sighed, an odd sort of peacefulness filling his being. He felt the fury that had enveloped him only moments prior leave him and as he looked up to the man in front of him he smiled, equally the other’s goofiness.

“Now tell me Harry, what seems to be the matter?” Malfoy calmly asked. Harry felt his shoulders stiffen once more as the events of that very morning appeared in his mind’s eye, but the anger did not return, instead came confusion for the man sitting in front of him could not possibly have done what Harry had seen earlier.

“This morning, Dean and Seamus went out for a fly both in good health, when they returned however, that was not the case anymore. You see, they had borrowed some of the brooms of the Gryffindor quidditch team, which they too admitted they should not have done, but as soon as they got into the air, there appeared to be something wrong with the brooms.”

“They were messed with and at such a level that it landed both of them into the hospital wing, Seamus with a broken leg and Dean with two broken arms. Nothing a bit of skelegro can’t fix of course, but the fact that someone messed with the brooms alone is enough to set my blood boiling,” Harry concluded, his hand tightening around his cup of tea as he spoke the last words. Malfoy, upon noticing the other man’s returning rage, quickly ushered him to have another sip of tea in order to calm him down.

“I understand your situation, but why would that make you come to me?” Harry thought about it for a minute, his cheeks slightly flushing as he thought of the unjust way as to how he had concluded that Malfoy had been the wrongdoer.

“Well first off, when I checked the broom closet after the incident I saw ‘Potter is a murderer’ painted on the back wall in green paint, which, no offence, clearly points to the culprit being in Slytherin and secondly the fact that the prick who did it wrote Potter instead of Harry Potter was an immediate sign that that prick was you. Anyway it doesn’t matter anymore, it clearly wasn’t you otherwise you wouldn’t be so calm and friendly,” Harry grunted. Malfoy chuckled, a pleasant sound which immediately made Harry look up at the other man for he had never heard it from him before.

“Nothing matters and yet everything does Harry,” Malfoy simply stated, he unwinded his legs and stretched them out over the cushions on his right. Harry followed the movement absentmindedly, his eyes following the elegant form of the other man’s legs.

“Would you tell me why my being friendly and calm would turn me innocent?” Malfoy asked as he laid himself down, his legs curled up against his chest and the palm of his hand holding up his face. Harry stared at the other man while take another sip, weighing his words in the back of his mind as he tried to formulate an answer to Malfoy’s question.

“Are you not innocent then?” Harry asked, opting for answering with a question instead of stumbling his way through his own thoughts in order to voice an opinion which was probably badly formulated.

“I am both sinner and thief, but I cannot tell you that I was the one to mess with the brooms though. Do you find my question uncomfortable or do you have another reason to not answer it?” Harry tried to recollect his thoughts as quickly as possible, but he felt himself failing to do so as the warm interior of the fortress made him lazy and tired. With this laziness and tiredness came a lack of filter as well unfortunately and so Harry sprouted the first thing that came to mind as he too curled himself up into a ball, his face directed to Malfoy.

“It does not make me uncomfortable, I’m simply scared of replying because I have never been witty nor fast and I do not want you to think lowly of me for I honestly do not know as to why I believe you are innocent. You simply do not seem guilty to me. Plus the tea has made me very calm and relaxed as if I am in the company of someone I’ve known all my life, which is not very far from the truth.”

“What I mean to say is that a man who has built himself a fortress of cushions and pillows is probably not someone who means to harm a few innocent quidditch players,” Harry’s words had started to become slightly slurred as he talked, but Malfoy did not seem to mind.

“Even though that man has held so many at wandpoint?” Draco softly whispered, his voice slightly fragile as if the question was a sensitive one, one whose answer could possibly hurt the man.

“Even then, every man can redeem himself, every man can feel sorry for what his done, every man can change. It should be his right not his privilege,” Harry mumbled, his mouth pulled into a grin as he regarded Draco’s pale face through his eyelashes. A smile broke out on the other man’s face and Harry felt his own grin widen. They were both on the brim of sleep, knocked out by the weight that the world had put on their shoulders, yet they did not want to close their eyes because if they did it might all disappear.

“Does it matter whether I have committed so many crimes when I was younger Harry?” Draco asked even though he knew what the other man’s answer would be for it had been in the answer he had given him earlier.

“Nothing matters and yet everything does Draco.” Draco smiled. He took one of the blankets laying on his left, shuffled a bit closer to Harry and then put it around the two of them, trapping them in a cocoon of warmth.

“Will you still be here when I wake up Draco?” Harry mumbled, his eyes already closed as he snuggled deeper into the cushion his head was laying on. Draco smiled a sweet smile, his hand itching to sweep Harry’s fringe out of his eyes, but he refrained himself for what they had was too fragile, too new, he did not wish to ruin it before it had even properly started.

“I will.”

“And will we still be the same Draco?”

“We will be like we are now Harry, I promise, now go to sleep, you’re tired and so am I.”

 

The next morning when one very curious Pansy Parkinson made her way up the stairs to the male dorms in the company of one very worried Hermione Granger, both men were wide awake, listening to the soft footsteps of both girls as they came towards Draco’s room. They both sat in silence, awaiting their arrival, the door wide open for it was still completely splintered, but the entrance to their fortress closed. They sat there, both with steaming cups of tea in hand and smiles plastered on their faces so when Hermione and Pansy opened the door to their fortress they were ready.

“Good morning Pansy,” said Draco.

“Good morning Hermione,” said Harry.

“Would you like a cup of tea, dears?” Both girls were stunned to silence, but had they seen how the pinkies of both men were joint in amiability, and who knows perhaps more than that, underneath the blanket thrown over their laps they surly would not have been able to utter a word. For now though they sat down in front of them, both wary of the unexpected seen in front of them. Who had messed with the brooms was left unsaid, but then again it did not matter even though it somehow did.


End file.
